


Strawberry Popsicles

by Cayran



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alpha Crowley (Good Omens), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale Whump (Good Omens), Celestial Parents, Childbirth, Comforting Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Family Dynamics, Family Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Omega Aziraphale (Good Omens), Omega Verse, Parents, Pregnancy, Pregnant Aziraphale (Good Omens), Protective Crowley (Good Omens), labor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:47:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27055153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cayran/pseuds/Cayran
Summary: Aziraphale moaned. This was far worse than he had ever imagined. Though, to be fair, the angel didn’t quite know what to expect.He was the first angel in existence to become pregnant. Angels mated, sure, but heavenly creation had been God’s thing. Angels had impregnated humans, though that hadn’t ended well, and he had bore witness to hundreds of human births over six thousand years of guarding the earth; however, this was entirely new. Not to mention the father of his child was a certain infuriatingly handsome demon...
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 210





	Strawberry Popsicles

Aziraphale moaned. This was far worse than he had ever imagined. Though, to be fair, the angel didn’t quite know what to expect. 

He was the first angel in existence to become pregnant. Angels mated, sure, but heavenly creation had been God’s thing. Angels _ had _ impregnated humans,  _ though that hadn’t ended well _ , and he had bore witness to hundreds of human births over six thousand years of guarding the earth; however, this was entirely new. Not to mention the father of his child was a certain infuriatingly handsome demon.

It had been hard enough resisting Crowley over the past six thousand years. He had craved the alpha from the very beginning; however, Aziraphale was a rule follower, not a rule breaker. To offer himself to Crowley would have been scandalous indeed. An omega angel mated to a demon alpha - it was completely unheard of!

Well, not anymore. Not since they reevaluated their allegiances nearly a year ago. 

And now look at him. The angel breathed slowly through his nose, counting the seconds in his head until the pain in his abdomen subsided. If someone would have told him all those months ago that he’d become pregnant with the demon’s child, let alone experience labor uncanningly similar to a human, he would have scoffed. Learning to allow himself to openly express his love for Crowley was a challenge in itself, but to become the “mother” of said demon’s child -  _ their child _ \- well, this was a whole other hurdle to overcome. 

Not that he regretted it, oh no. He didn’t regret Crowley. He’d  _ never _ regret Crowley. Wanting and loving Crowley came as naturally to him as breathing. Choosing the alpha as his mate was the best decision he had made in his entire existence, and if their bonding resulted in an offspring then it must be good. Maybe She had planned it this way. There was no predicting Her will. It was  _ ineffable _ as Aziraphale liked to say… 

Still, it seemed a  _ little _ unfair that he’d have to endure the pain of human childbirth. He was a celestial being, after all! He secretly wondered if it was her way of punishing him for mating to a demon. Or was it because they defended the earth together, they were destined to birth and raise their offspring similarly to the humans they so desperately adored? Aziraphale openly chose the latter of the two options, even if he subconsciously worried about the first. 

But Crowley wasn’t a punishment. Crowley wasn’t a mistake. Crowley was his  _ mate.  _ He’d graciously bare an infinite amount of pain if it meant he got to keep Crowley by his side and in his bed. 

Speaking of the bed, he needed to get to it. 

Pushing himself off the counter that he had used as a brace, Aziraphale waddled to the bedroom. The swell of his stomach made it difficult for him to comfortably maneuver around the clutter of the bookshop. Thankfully his contractions were still 10 minutes apart, so even with his slower pace and the obstacle course of trinkets, he would make it to his living quarters before the next one came on. Still, he was miserable. He dabbed at the sweat on his brow with a lace handkerchief, (presumably made in the 1800’s) as he panted through the hallways. His fingers quivered as he gripped the wooden rail of the stairwell, bracing himself against the sturdy wood as he took each step one by one. 

_ Almost there _ , he thought to himself, breathing through his nose and out his mouth.  _ Where is that bloody snake? _

Crowley had left that morning (upon Aziraphale’s insistence) to get a bit of fresh air. The demon had been nearly insufferable since finding out his mate was pregnant, especially within these last few weeks, and while Aziraphale craved his company, he could see the serpent growing anxious. Crowley was a creature of mischief. When the demon wasn’t curled up for a 50 year nap, he was constantly out and about, always moving at a pace Aziraphale could hardly keep up with. Which was why Crowley needed a little time to himself, despite claiming otherwise. 

But he had been gone for hours now - long enough for labor to begin. Long enough for Aziraphale to desperately want him back. 

The angel sighed in relief upon entering his living quarters and quickly scuttled to the side of the bed, fingers curling around the soft fabric of the duve. Upon sliding one leg up on the bed another contraction hit, nearly causing the angel to lose his grip and balance. 

_ Oh _ ....that had only been 8 minutes. 

Aziraphale clutched the sheets and whimpered through the contraction, riding through each pulse of pain with practiced controlled breathing. He knew he probably looked comical huffing and puffing in the manner that he did, but he supposed it did help him focus. 

But damn it, he needed Crowley. He needed him  _ right now. _

As if picking up on his mate’s distress Crowley appeared in a  _ poof _ of sulphur behind his laboring omega and immediately wrapped his long arms around the angel’s plush body. He nuzzled against the sweat damped hair that framed Aziraphale’s neck and nipped at the mating mark with a possessive growl. 

“ _ Shhhh _ angel, I’m here. I’m here,” he cooed, holding him closely. He kneaded against the hard bulge of the angel’s stomach and shifted his body to bore the brunt of Aziraphale’s weight. 

“I’m sorry, Aziraphale. I didn’t know...I didn’t realize until I rounded the block. I thought our bond would alert me if something happened, but...ngk...I’m sorry.” 

“It’s quite alright, dear,” Aziraphale patted the hands cradling him, his head resting on the boney shoulder of his demon. “We’ve still got time. My hips haven’t dislocated yet.”

Crowley grimaced.  _ Ah, yes.  _ The snap. The most unfortunate part of a male omega’s pregnancy. Child birth in itself could be brutal whichever way you looked at it, but particularly so for omega males. Unlike females, males couldn’t have a vaginal birth. Not only did they not have the parts for it, but their hips weren’t wide enough for a safe delivery. Rather, in order to ensure a safe delivery, an omega male’s pelvis was designed to dislocate at the sacroiliac joint and widen enough to allow the baby through. Once the child was out, physicians and/or nursemaids would relocate the pelvis and hip bones. It was a rather painful experience, but natural. 

It didn’t make it any less difficult for Crowley to picture, especially when it was his angel that was bound to experience such an ordeal. 

“Do you want me to phone Anathema? She might be able to help…”

“No, no,” Aziraphale shook his head, straightening now that the contraction had passed, “not unless we have to. I’d rather it just be us, dear.” 

“Right,” Crowley replied, nodding against the angel’s shoulder. “I just, you know...I’m not a doctor, angel.” 

“True,” Aziraphale agreed, nuzzling against Crowley’s chin. He relished the closeness of the demon’s body, inhaling his spicy scent as a wave of  _ calm  _ rolled over him. “But let’s be realistic love... I know you. I’m quite certain I know you better than yourself sometimes. If some doctor came to assist me while I'm in the throws of  _ painful  _ labor, I'm not certain you’d let them, you wily thing. Besides, we’ve discussed this and agree that it isn’t safe.” 

The demon hummed in acknowledgement, keeping a firm hold on Aziraphale. 

They didn’t know what would happen. Neither did they know what their child would look like. No celestial or demon had been  _ birthed _ , so would they have a humanoid corporation? Would they have wings or hundreds of eyes? Multiple heads? Maybe they’d be part serpent or brandish a tiny little spade tail - either way, there was no certainty. The angel was right. It had to be just them. 

“How much longer do you think you have?” Crowley asked, relinquishing his protective hold on the angel, though his hands hovered. Aziraphale shrugged. 

“Not certain. That last contraction happened after only eight minutes. Could be hours still...but once my hips dislocate it shouldn’t be long after that.” 

Crowley wished he’d stop saying that world - dislocate. He was starting to loathe it. Dislocate meant pain, and he hated the idea of seeing his omega in distress. Even if that distress was to birth his offspring. It was a good thing he loved the child comfortably curled within his angel’s womb, otherwise he wouldn’t allow it. 

The demon shifted uncomfortably beside his angelic spouse, fingers bracing the delicate curve of Aziraphale’s back. Warmth spread out from his palm and seeped within the aching muscles of the angel’s hips. Aziraphale sighed contentedly, his eyes slipping closed to enjoy this brief interlude. His alpha was so good to him. Too good, really. He didn’t know how he ended up so lucky, but he had learned not to question it. Instead, he nuzzled his cheek against Crowley’s collarbone with a  _ purr, _ grateful for the demon’s comforting presence. 

“While I personally could stay like this all afternoon,” Crowley interjected, kissing Aziraphale’s temple, “we’ve got to get your sorted love. Bed, or tub?” 

“Hmmm,” Aziraphale hummed, blinking out of his relaxed stupor. “Bath.” Both were tempting, but a warm bath sounded  _ divine. _

“I can labor there for a while, though I don’t fancy a water birth.” 

“So bath then bed?”

“Bath, then bed,” Aziraphale confirmed, beginning to waddle towards the bathroom door. Crowley quickly followed, keeping one arm firmly wrapped around his angel’s back in support. He didn’t fancy his angel taking a tumble or losing his footing - not when there was precious cargo involved. 

Crowley slithered around Aziraphale and helped him sit against the edge of the claw-footed tub as he reached to turn on the water. He tested the water with his fingers, adjusting the nozzles until the water reached the perfect temperature. 

“Now,” he said, limber fingers working to loosen the angel’s bowtie. “Let's get you undressed and in the bath, angel.” 

Had the roles been reversed, Crowley would have simply miracled the clothes off his corporation, but not Aziraphale. Aziraphale’s clothes weren’t miracled on. They were store bought - pieces that he had acquired over the centuries, and while miracles may have held the fabric together, Aziraphale liked his items to be handled with care and consideration. 

No, Crowley would help him take off each individual layer. Had the circumstances been different, he’d do it slowly, reverently, and enjoy every second of it. He loved nothing more than to reveal inch after inch of pale, soft, creamy skin. He knew what the angel smelled like - what he  _ tasted _ like - but, as delectable as his mate was, now was not the time to taste. Now was the time to tend to and protect.

After removing the angel’s waist coat and button down shirt, Crowley helped Aziraphale stand so that his pants could slide off. As he moved to remove his socks, the acute pain of another contraction caused Aziraphale to double over with a sharp gasp. His vice-like grip on Crowley’s wrists would have shattered the bone had Crowley been human, but the demon seemed unfazed as he helped the angel back into a sitting position and pushed the sweaty curls off the angel’s brow. 

“Breathe, love, breathe,” he coaxed, stroking along Aziraphale’s face and neck, easing the stress lines as they formed. “Just a few more seconds and it’ll be over.” 

Aziraphale could only huff his response, rocking back and forth on the edge of the tub. Movement seemed to help. 

“Oh Crowley, they’re getting worse.” 

“I’d imagine so, dove,” he chuckled, his thumb stroking down the bridge of the angel’s nose reverently. “It’ll get worse before it gets better. Though, I wish there was something I could do to help…” 

And he did. Not being able to relieve his mate’s pain, even if just a fraction, was brutal. 

The angel’s grip on Crowley’s wrist wavered and he breathed out a long, shaky breath. His blue eyes cracked open and he gave his alpha a shaky smile. 

“Ready to get into the tub?” Crowley offered. 

Aziraphale nodded, the contraction finally subsiding. 

Curling one arm around the angel’s pale chest, Crowley guided his body down into the warm liquid, steam rising to encompass the rotund form of Aziraphale’s belly. 

The angel sighed in relief. The warmth of the water felt absolutely heavenly against his sore, aching muscles, and he leaned back, letting the edge of the tub support the arch of his neck. Crowley didn’t remove his hands until he knew Aziraphale was steady and satisfied, and reached down to soak a washcloth only to bring it back up the angel’s body, stroking along the soft curves. 

“Can I get you anything?” Crowley asked, dragging the cloth along the raised skin of the angel’s claiming mark. The friction caused Aziraphale to shudder and lean into the demon’s menstrations with a pleasant smile. 

“Tea would be absolutely lovely, my dear.” 

“I’m sure it would, dove, but I’m afraid tea is a no-go.” 

Aziraphale scowled and whined, though he wasn’t too upset. Otherwise, Crowley was sure he would have made a bigger fuss. If anything, Crowley knew his angel could be dramatic. The less flare, the less the angel cared. Still, he played along. 

“I know, I know,” he crooned, kissing the shell of the angel’s earlobe, “but I’m afraid it is only ice chips for you, my pet.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. 

“ _ Or _ ,” Crowley added with a teasing nip to the pinkened flesh, “I could bring you a popsicle. You can still have one of those.” 

That sparked the angel’s interest. 

“If you don’t  _ mind _ …” 

Crowley smirked, letting the washcloth plop back into the water. “Of course I don’t mind. Anything for my plump little tart. Just don’t go having the baby while I’m gone, alright?” 

“I wouldn’t dare,” Aziraphale said, his hands petting his stomach affectionately. “But do hurry, love.” 

The last contraction had ended nearly two minutes ago, which meant that if Aziraphale’s contractions were still eight minutes apart, the demon only had six minutes to run to the kitchen and back. He could have simply miracled the popsicle into existence, but that would have been frivolous. Aziraphale would be in no state to perform his own miracles, so it was all up to Crowley, and Crowley didn’t know how many miracles they may need before the night was over. He’d rather be safe than sorry. The angel’s well being and the pup nestled in his belly were his top priority. 

He took the stairs in bounds of two, long legs carrying him to the kitchen in record time. Popping open the freezer, he pulled out a strawberry flavored popsicle and a grape. Best get his angel two, just in case he was peckish. He filled up a cup with crushed ice -  _ just in case _ \- and no sooner had he stepped out of the kitchen, he felt a sharp sense of  _ pain  _ through the mental link that bonded them together as mates. 

Shit. 

Crowley scurried up the staircase, nearly losing his footing in his haste and pushed open the bathroom door, not caring how it slammed against the wall. 

He was on his knees beside the tub in an instant; the popsicles and cup of ice discarded by his side. 

“Oh  _ angel _ , that was quick,” he said, burying his nose into pale blonde hair, and circling his arms around the angel’s shoulders.

Aziraphale’s hands gripped the sides of the tub in response, his knuckles turning white as he grunted through another contraction. Crowley reached over to smooth a hand over the angel’s knuckles, willing them to not break the porcelain. He cared not for the tub, but rather he didn’t want his mate hurting himself. Aziraphale forgot his own strength at times, and porcelain could cut just as well as glass. 

“Easy angel, easy,” Crowley murmured, leaning down to suck on the bond mark in hopes of calming his stressed mate. “It is almost over.” 

Aziraphale continued to pant through the contraction, but arched his neck in response to his alpha’s warm lips. After a few long seconds, the angel relaxed back into the demon’s arms with a heavy exhale. 

“Oh my…”he murmured, grey eyes blinking slowly down at the steaming water between his legs. “I’d say things are progressing, dear.” 

Crowley’s eyes followed his gaze and the demon nearly swallowed his tongue. 

He didn’t like blood. Never did. Demons were supposed to love blood - bathe in the blood of the innocent and all that jazz - but not Crowley. Especially not his angel’s blood. 

Thin rivulets of red mixed with gold swirled amongst the stagnant water. Corporal and heavenly ichor moved together in a pa de deux and the lazy movements of Aziraphale’s legs did little to disturb it.

“You alright, angel?” Crowley nuzzled against his cheek, though his amber eyes remained fixated on the angel’s blood. 

“Quite, my dear. Though that was seven minutes instead of eight,” he told the serpent, relishing the warmth of the tub and the comfort of the demon’s arms. 

“I’d say things will move rather quickly once my hips…”

“Don’t say it,” Crowley barked, teeth finding the angel’s bond mark once more. “I know what has to happen, angel. You don’t have to keep reminding me.” 

“But it is quite natural, my dear.” 

“ _ Ngk, _ well yes. But not any more easy to accept, angel. I mean, look at spiders! Some female spiders eat their mates after breeding. It’s a natural process, but not pleasant.” 

“Oh, I see your point…” Aziraphale said, reaching up to pat the demon’s arm. 

“Bloody gruesome, it is.” 

“Well, I’ll relay your grievances with the Almighty next time I have a chat with Her.”

“Oh, bugger off,” Crowley smirked, shoving the angel’s shoulder playfully and pressing a kiss to his white curls.  _ Cheeky bastard. _ Aziraphale only smiled, perfectly satisfied with himself. 

“What about that popsicle, dear?” 

“Oh, yes!” Crowley snatched both frozen treats off the tiled floor and held both out to Aziraphale. “I grabbed a strawberry and grape. Which would you prefer?” 

“Hmmmm...strawberry sounds delightful.” 

Crowley unwrapped the strawberry popsicle and handed it to the soaking angel, who delightedly devoured it as if it was the best dessert he had ever had the pleasure of tasting. Had the situation been different, Aziraphale’s happy moans would have caused a different reaction from the demon. But he wouldn’t go there. Not today. 

Aziraphale ate the grape popsicle as well (because it knew better than to melt) and endured four more contractions before he could no longer tolerate the hard surface of the tub against his back. He desired the bed. He wanted to be surrounded by plush pillows and blankets and the thickness of his mate’s scent. He wanted Crowley to wrap around him like the snake he was and comfort him through the birth of their child. The demon seemed to have the same thoughts based on his not so subtle touches. The angel was certain that had he asked Crowley to join him in the tub, he would have done so without question. 

Aziraphale considered himself lucky. 

“Help me out, dear,” Aziraphale said, pulling the plug after the last of the grape popsicle had been licked off the stick. 

Crowley nodded and stood. He held out his hands and gently began to pull the angel into a standing position once Aziraphale found his footing. 

“You’re right pruny, love,” Crowley chuckled, taking in the naked form of his mate. 

“Ah yes, well, this corporation is rather accurate. Adam did a fine job.” 

“I’ll say,” the demon replied, kissing the angel’s cheek as he brought a fluffy towel around Aziraphale’s shoulders. “Though, you’ve always been beautiful.” 

Aziraphale smiled, a blush rising to his already rosy cheeks. 

“Well, my dear, you’re quite the specimen yourself. I’ve always thought so. Even when we stood on the walls of Eden, I thought you… _ *SNAP*!”  _

The disturbing pop echoed through the small space as Aziraphale stepped towards the demon, the words on his tongue evaporating as his legs gave out beneath him. Crowley was quick to catch him, and gathered the angel into his arms before his knees were able to touch the ground. A litany of curses rolled off the demon’s tongue as he moved to brace Aziraphale’s back, and he cringed when the angel cried out. 

“I’ve got you, _ shhhhhh _ . I’ve got you, angel.” Crowley cradled him against his chest, rocking slightly. It wasn’t the most ideal of positions - knees on hard, wet tile, while trying physically and  _ literally _ keep his mate in one piece, but Crowley couldn’t imagine any other option. 

“Oh  _ heavens _ , this is worse,  _ way _ worse than I presumed, dear.” 

Aziraphale clutched the lapels of Crowley’s shirt, teeth clenching as he breathed sharply through his nose. Despite the acute pain in his hips, his lower half was all but numb. It was the most odd sensation, and not one he enjoyed. 

“We need to get to the bed, dear,” he breathed, his grey eyes wet with unshed tears. He glanced up at the demon’s clenched jaw, wishing he had the physical strength to reassure his mate. He wanted to smooth away the worry lines and the pinched expression, but Aziraphale knew Crowley’s happiness derived from his, and vice versa. They fed off of each other’s energy and emotions, and as long as Aziraphale was in physical pain, then his demon would remain stressed. 

“I know,” Crowley responded, his voice hard with determination. The slits of his eyes were blown wide - a physical reaction to the emotional distress he felt. “Just hold on to me, okay dove? I’ll get us there.” 

Gold bled into the whites of his eyes. 

“I’m going to try to get you there without jaring you too much, but please,  _ please _ tell me if something doesn’t feel right, okay?” 

Aziraphale nodded, looping his arms around Crowley’s neck. The demon then stood, cradling the angel’s body against his boney chest before taking a few test steps towards the door. When the angel voiced no complaints other than a sharp breath and a whimper, Crowley picked up the pace and gently discarded his cargo on the king size bed. 

Once the angel was safely deposited atop the silken sheets, his next instinct was to curl around him protectively and shield him in the soft embrace of his ebony wings. Instead, he layered pillows against Aziraphale’s spine, and adjusted his quivering legs. 

“What else angel, what else do you need?” 

The poor demon. He was a nervous wreck. 

A contraction was threatening to disturb the angel’s temporary comfort, and the back of his head hit the pillow as he gasped. 

“Check me...check...check the progress.” Aziraphale made a half-assed motion towards the space between his legs. 

“ _ Pfftttt _ ...I don’t, ngk! I don’t know what to look for!” 

“You do!” Aziraphale’s teeth clenched. “You know what it looks like - just tell me,  _ oh this hurts _ , just tell me if it looks any different!” 

“Oh shit, right! ‘Course. Right.” 

In a flurry of motion and gangly limbs, Crowley kneeled between the angel’s legs and pulled away the towel. Normally, the sight of his mate laying stark naked on a bed before him would have sent the alpha into a sex crazed frenzy, but not today. 

“ _Oh_ _wow_...yep, that’s...that’s different,” he stammered, amber eyes blown wide. 

“Whatl?!” The angel shouted, his chest heaving. “What do you see, Crowley?” 

“Things are different…” 

“I know they’re different, I can  _ feel _ that it is different, but how so?!”

“Umm...ngk...things are progressing, I don’t... _ ugh _ ! Do you want me to get graphic, angel?!” 

“No, just…” He was exasperated. Tears trickled down the angel’s heated face, the pain becoming constant and without reprieve. He didn’t have to say it. Instead, he held out a hand towards his mate and Crowley quickly obliged. 

Crowley slithered up Aziraphale’s side and nestled himself against every curve of his omega’s body. He could feel the tense strain of the angel’s muscles and how they pulsed with each and every throb of his aching body. Crowley pictured a snake and how they shed their skin - or a tarantula and how each vibration of the arachnid’s body drove the old skin downwards to reveal the perfection underneath. Though, Aziraphale wasn’t shedding his skin. He was having a baby -  _ their  _ baby. These pulses weren’t to help him rid himself of to-tight dead skin, but to move the child downwards and into position. Nature and its metaphors were funny. 

He stroked the angel’s face and down his throbbing belly in repetitive motions, soothing him with gentle touches and soft kisses. Aziraphale leaned into his touches, his body shaking. He squeezed Crowley’s hand whenever a contraction sent razor-sharp pain up his spine, blood and birthing fluid pooling between his legs. He groaned at the sight of it. 

“What if I can’t do it?” Aziraphale asked, breaking the silence between them. His voice was small, unsure. 

“What do you mean, angel? ‘Course you can.” Crowley scoffed. He never questioned his mate’s strength. Omega or not, Aziraphale was a holy being filled with divine justice. Power coursed through his body, and the very sight of his angelic essence brought Crowley to his knees. He shuddered to think what all Aziraphale _ could _ do if brought to the brink - he was a force to be reckoned with - a soldier.  _ Of course _ he could birth a baby. 

“But what if I _ can’t _ ? What if I physically can’t do this? What about the baby?! What if She disapproves and I fall and...?”

Oh. So that was it. 

Crowley shook his head, clutching the angel against him.

“Stop this nonsense, angel. I won’t have it.” 

“But…”

“No buts. It’ll be alright. You’ll be fine,  _ you’ll be fine _ . If She didn’t approve, do you think we’d have gotten this far? No. I rather think not. You’ll be fine - the baby will…  _ is _ fine, dove.”

Despite his distaste with Her, Crowley didn’t think her so cruel as to allow an angel of her host to carry a child for nine months only to do away with it after the birth. The angel hadn’t fallen as a result of mating to him, so why would an innocent baby - even if it’s father  _ was _ a demon - change that? It was conceived out of love, and it itself would be loved. Love wasn’t sinful, it was a blessing. 

Even Her son preached love. He ate with the sinful and affiliated himself with those the world deemed unworthy - that had to count for something, right? 

Aziraphale whimpered, pressing his forehead against Crowley’s chest. The demon’s shirt grew damp from his tears. 

“I’m _ scared _ , Crowley.” 

Crowley stroked his hair and pressed a firm kiss against his mate’s temple. He shushed him with nimble fingers, caressing his omega like he was a delicate thing that might break. Crowley was scared himself, but Aziraphale needed reassurance. The demon would deal with his own concerns at a later time - most likely with a hard whiskey or something he could gulp down that  _ burned.  _

“I know,” he purred, “I know. But I’m here, we’ll get through this together. You n’ me. You’ll be okay.” 

After a few soft sniffles, Crowley felt the angel’s head bob reluctantly against his shirt and felt the inhale of a deep breath. He released comforting pheromones in response, hoping to bring his mate some respite both mentally and physically. 

“Okay.” 

It was soft, nearly inaudible and muffled by Crowley’s t-shirt, but Crowley had heard it. He smiled. 

Aziraphale continued to breathe him in despite another agonizing contraction.

“I need you to check again, Crowley. I feel _ pressure _ …” 

Crowley leaned back, finding the angel’s eyes. 

“What kind of pressure?” he asked. 

Aziraphale chewed on his lower lip, looking pained. 

“Like a pushing pressure, I think. Oh my.  _ Oh Heavens  _ I think it is time…” 

Crowley nodded frantically and scurred down the bed to get a second look. He gulped.  _ Oh yes, _ it was coming. He could see the bulge of something abnormal. A head, maybe?  _ Oh Satan _ , that had to be a head. 

“Christ…” 

“What?!” Aziraphale shouted, sweat beading his brow. “What is it?”

Crowley’s eyes peeled away from the space between the angel’s thighs, his skin pale. The whites of his eyes were long gone. 

“I think I see the head,” he replied, blinking slowly. “You’re crowning!” 

Crowley took it upon himself to re-adjust Aziraphale’s legs and bent them at the knee. He was careful not to jar the angel in his rapid movements, and made sure Aziraphale’s position mirrored birthing positions he had seen before in films. He never paid close attention to the births he had been “present” for during his six thousand years of walking the earth, though now, wrapped in the frenzy of the birth of his own child, he wished he would have paid more attention. He supposed cinematic Hollywood references would have to do. 

The limber demon hastedly inserted himself behind Aziraphale, shoving the pillows away as he wrapped himself around the angel’s back. Crowley’s pointed chin rested against Aziraphale’s shoulder and he gently pulled the pregnant omega flush against his chest. 

“You’re going to need to push, love” he coaxed, entwining their fingers together. “Squeeze me as hard as you need when the urge comes, okay?” 

Aziraphale nodded, head lolling like a puppet whose strings had been snapped. The pain was indescribable. He felt like he was being ripped open and without reprieve between contractions, there was no relief. He felt his stomach roll and clench, and the sudden urge to push overwhelmed him.    
  


“AAAAAHHHHHHHHH!” Aziraphale bowed forward, Crowley moving with him as he began to push. Despite the uncanny and unnatural sensation of his hips being detached, Aziraphale felt their child descend. Inch by agonizing inch, the child moved forward through the birth canal causing the angel to cry out in pain. Gold and red ichor stained the silken sheets to a degree that no miracle could fix. They were ruined, but sheets were the least of his concerns. 

“Crowley... _ Crowley,” _ he moaned, thick tears streaming down his cheeks, mixing with the beads of sweat on his neck and collar bone. His fingers tightened around the demon’s, crushing them in his vice-like grip. Crowley demanded his fingers not to break, and so they didn’t. 

“I’m here, dove, I’m here…” Crowley nuzzled him, feeling the angel’s pulse throb against his cheek. “You can do it, love. You’re so strong, look at you…” 

Aziraphale whined, a high-pitched keening sound from the back of his throat. His alpha’s praise fueling his self-worth. Still, the pain fogged his brain. Here came another...

“Push, gorgeous, push!” Crowley coaxed, feeling the angel bare down on his hips. The angel’s scream nearly shattered the nearest light bulb and resonated through the walls. He felt the bed vibrate beneath them, and was quite certain Aziraphale was the reason the dogs were howling outside the bookshop. Crowley was somewhat glad the angel didn’t have any neighbors - though it wasn’t like he’d cared about the disturbance of peace. 

Aziraphale’s voice cracked and he fell back against Crowley’s chest heaving great gulp-some breaths. 

“I see it!” Crowley shouted, excitement rolling off him in waves. “Just one more big push darling, come on!” 

The angel felt the child’s shoulders breach below, his whole body shaking. It  _ burned. _ It burned like hot coal grating across his abused skin, and there was no relief. There would be no relief until the baby was out.  _ Oh God _ , he needed this baby out! Dragging in a few more breaths and blinking past the heavy fog of his exhausted brain, the angel listened to the coaxing of his demonic mate and pushed. 

“Push push push push PUSSSSSSH!” Crowley’s forked tongue got the best of him, scales rippling across his skin as he watched a small, wet, vaguely blue-red infant slide out of his mate’s body with a squelching sound. Aziraphale fell back with a broken cry in exhaustion while the demon quickly slid out from behind his mate to snatch the child up from it’s bed of bodily fluids and  _ yuck. _

Crowley quickly cut the child’s cord with a sharpened claw and with a  _ snap _ , the mess between the angel’s legs had evaporated. 

The demon was beaming. 

“Don’t sleep on me now, beautiful,” Crowley said, placing something solid and warm against the angel’s bare chest. “Look at what all your hard work brought us.” 

Despite his exhaustion, Aziraphale’s arms quickly encompassed the child -  _ his child _ , and brought one shaky hand up to cradle the back of the infant’s skull. 

So it  _ was _ a baby. Not a monster. Not an abomination. Not a swirling ball of eyes and wheels. Not a snake. Just a baby. A beautiful,  _ tiny _ , whole, perfect baby. His baby - their baby. Their son. 

It was a boy. He had wondered if the child would display a physical manifestation of genitals, but that question was quickly answered. 

Yep, it was definitely a boy. 

“Oh  _ Crowley _ , look at him - look at our son,” Aziraphale was breathless, but his voice held so much adoration and wonder for the tiny being curled atop his chest. “He’s perfect, absolutely perfect.”

And he was. From the wisps of strawberry blonde hair on his head to the curl of each little toe, their son was a whole, healthy, perfect baby. 

Crowley beamed, his fingers tracing down the curve of the infant’s spine. The carnal need to  _ protect _ swelled within his chest and caused his heart to stutter, and the demon leaned forward to press a firm kiss against his angel’s lips. 

“He is,” he murmured against Aziraphale’s mouth, peppering kisses along his lips and down his jaw. “Just like his mother. You did good, dove.  _ So good _ .”

Aziraphale hummed appreciatively and chuckled, his heart swelling with pride when Crowley pulled away and turned his attention to the baby. He watched with a happy  _ wiggle _ as Crowley bent down to nuzzle their son’s cheek, already smitten with the tiny thing. He was 100% certain the demon would spoil their son rotten. Absolutely rotten. 

Their child would want for nothing. 

“Well,” he breathed, relaxing against the mountain of pillows that had suddenly found their way behind him once again. Clever demon. “I did have some help.”

Crowley winked at his angel and wiggled his eyebrows. 

“I can  _ help  _ again soon, if you’d like.” The hint was not lost on Aziraphale. 

“Oh no, you keep your hands off me you wily serpent. One is enough for now!” 

The demon chuckled and curled his arms around the angel’s waist, his forked tongue tickling the shell of the angel’s ear. 

“Not even to do this?” 

In one swift, painless motion, Aziraphale felt his hips shift back into place and the comforting  _ warmth _ of a demonic miracle soothe the ache in his joints. A soundless “Oh” formed on the angel’s lips, and he purred appreciatively against the tanned skin of his alpha’s neck. 

“Well...I’ll make an exception.” 

“I thought so,” Crowley said, smirking. 

The demon then settled down against the pillows himself, curling an arm around his mate’s shoulders to bring him closer. With one arm fitted perfectly around his angel and the other moving to stroke the delicate skin of his squirming infant, Crowley found himself utterly and incandescently happy. Never in all of creation would he have pictured himself here. He was a demon, afterall. Demon’s didn’t have happy endings. Well, not until today. 

He was supposed to live out eternity sulking through the nine realms of hell - not curled up next to an angel, let alone mate to one. And a child, well, now he had a child. That was never a part of the “plan,” but here they were. You’d never catch him complaining. 

No. His life was perfect. He was  _ complete.  _

Nuzzling into his angel’s downy, white curls, Crowley knew he was the luckiest bastard that ever walked the earth - or the stars. The nebulas and constellations held no comparison to the life he held between his arms. In fact, nothing in all of Her creation held a spark to the beauty of what his life had become. 

He may have been a demon by default, but he no longer considered himself “ _ fallen _ .” This was heaven. His own personal heaven. 

“I love you, you know,” he whispered, planting a kiss against the angel’s crown. 

Aziraphale smiled, the skin around his eyes crinkling. Crowley felt the angel’s love for him radiate and engulf him and he basked under his affection. 

“And I love you,” Aziraphale replied, squeezing the demon’s hand. “William and I both do.” 

_ William. Will.  _

Huh. He smiled. Not what he expected (though they hadn’t really discussed names), but he liked it. 

William then. 

William. 

Yes, that would do. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! 
> 
> Look! *holds up story* I'm writing again. c: 
> 
> I've always been somewhat fascinated by the Omegaverse and wanted to try my hand at it. Not sure if I did it justice, but I had this scenario stuck in my head for a while and couldn't rest until I typed it out. 
> 
> I myself have been through labor and wanted to really bring out the pain and gore that comes with child birth. It isn't pleasant folks - but the second you hold your child in your arms, it is all worth it. Our beautiful ineffable husbands deserve that kind of happiness. They love each other, after all. ;) 
> 
> Okay, on another note, rather than give Aziraphale a vulva (which we all know is possible because he's an angel) I read the omega male child birth scenario on an Omegaverse website and it totally makes sense for me. A woman's form is physically suited for childbirth. If you look at images of a male and female pelvis, women have a wider bone structure while a man's hips are narrower. The dislocation of the hips would increase the space in the male's pelvic structure allowing a "birth canal" to form. 
> 
> Anyway...I hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> I'm totally open to prompts and collaborations! Feel free to message me on discord at Cayran#8511 if you'd like to toss an idea my way or chat! :)


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